


Piles of Crowns

by Megkips



Category: Epic of Gilgamesh
Genre: Alternative Perspective, Gen, The Enkidu version
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-23
Updated: 2012-07-23
Packaged: 2017-11-10 11:08:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/465580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megkips/pseuds/Megkips
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Stand, Enkidu, and tell your story.”</p><p>Enkidu does as he is instructed, not daring to sit at the feet of the underworld’s queen nor asking for refreshment as he might do in the palace of Uruk before beginning a tale.  He draws in a breath, scarcely remembering that he no longer needs it, and begins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Piles of Crowns

“Who has brought this new resident here?”

Ereshkigal’s voice does not thunder, as it did in Enkidu’s dream, nor does she glare. She simply sits atop her great black onyx throne, waiting for an answer. When Enkidu’s tongue sticks in his throat, the scribe Belet-seri answers.

“He is Enkidu, who was brought here by--”

“--by the gods, as punishment,” Enkidu finally says, finding a sliver of courage in his heat.

“Many a man thinks their death is a punishment from the gods,” Ereshkigal says, her voice betraying her boredom. “How can you be so certain of this claim?”

“It is I who killed the great monster Humbaba alongside my friend and it is I who helped to slay the great Bull of Heaven when the goddess Ishtar released it upon the city of Uruk to punish it’s king.”

Enkidu is taken aback by how quickly Ereshkigal sits up on her throne and leans forward, her eyebrows knitting together and nostrils flaring. “I am familiar with current events, even here in Irkalla. Tell me how you had a hand in these deaths, Enkidu.”

“You honour me by letting me speak, Ereshkigal.”

“I should cut out your tongue and ensure you decay even here, just as your body is doing in the world of the living. The Bull of Heaven, Gugalanna, was my husband.”

“Then I bow to your infinite mercy,” Enkidu corrects himself, prostrating on the ground, “and thank you for the oppor--”

“Stand, Enkidu, and tell your story.”

Enkidu does as he is instructed, not daring to sit at the feet of the underworld’s queen nor asking for refreshment as he might do in the palace of Uruk before beginning a tale. He draws in a breath, scarcely remembering that he no longer needs it, and begins.

“I cannot tell you of those deaths without explaining the events that lead up to them. This story is not brief, Ereshkigal, nor one that I take delight in telling given how it has ended for me. But if my words provide entertainment, so be it.

“At the order of the great god Anu, the hands of the goddess Aruru sculpted me from the clay of the earth. Anu’s order was this: create a second self for Gilgamesh, the king of Uruk, who is equal to him in strength and courage, so that the king might have a counterweight to his stormy heart and the city of great-walled Uruk will know peace. Anu gave this command after hearing the heart wrenching prayers of the people of Uruk, whose great king was a tyrant - he took the men of Uruk and crushed them and the daughters of Uruk and used them.

“For some time after my creation - I dare not say birth - I roamed the great steppe, far from the world of men. Each day had little routine - I rose when I wanted, I traveled wherever it pleased my heart to go, I slept whenever I felt it safe to do so. My only companions were the animals who dwelled in the wilderness beside me - the gazelles who I shared the grass with, the predators whose hunts I shared and the birds whose bright calls I mimicked.

“I cannot say how long I lived in the wilderness, as I had no standards to measure the passage of time, but I can say that it was long enough to frighten the great hunters who set traps for animals. The animals that fell into their traps often made great cries of distress, and I would go to free them. These actions ruined the livelihoods of those trappers, and in response to my actions, they went to great-walled Uruk and begged the king to find some way to protect their traps, so that they might continue in their trade and return to their good profits.

“After hearing of their problem, Gilgamesh insisted that they return to the edges of civilization, taking in their company a woman - a priestess of Ishtar - Shamhat. Based on the hunters’ description of me, the king was confident that seeing a female of my species would be a sufficient distraction, and from there the trappers could decide what they would do with me. 

“I am not aware of what the trappers and Shamhat discussed on their journey to the farthest reaches of the wilderness - Shamhat never told me, nor did I think to ask. All I know is that it was agreed that she would sit at the edge of the watering hole and wait for me, and then circumstance would decide the rest.

“This I do know - Shamhat waited three days for me to appear. What she felt upon first seeing me in my animal like state - matted hair and dirty body - is a mystery, but I recall only wonder at first laying eyes on her. Yes, she was bidding me to come lie with her, but what was so much stranger and so much more intriguing was that for once there was another creature that looked like me, for on the steppe I had seen species of every creature but my own. It was natural for me to approach in curiosity, and when through sheer body language she communicated her intent - and she did have to rely on her body, for at the time I had no understanding of language - I assented.

“For six days and seven nights, we lay together. When Shamhat and I were not entangled, she taught me other things - language, what a city was, who had made the traps for the animals that I shared the plains with - what it was to be human. What other men learn throughout their lives, I learned in six days and seven nights, and at the end of that seventh night, I designed to return to the wilderness rather than follow Shamhat back to wherever it was she came from. But as I approached the few gazelle that lingered at the watering hole, they fled from me.

“Watching the distress grow on my face, nearly despondent, Shamhat walked over to me. My silence prompted her to take my hand, saying, ‘Have my lessons taught you nothing, Enkidu? Both you and the animals know that the wilderness only has nothing for you now.’ When I turned my head to her, about to ask where I might go next if not the wilderness, Shamhat continued, saying, ‘Come home with me, to the city of great-walled Uruk. You have heard me speak of it before, of it’s glory, of the great temple to the goddess Ishtar, and of its king. There you will learn so much more than you already have, and you will delight in those lessons as much as you have delighted in mine.’

“She spoke the truth, of course, but it was still hard to walk away from that watering hole and away from the life that I once knew. To disguise the fear in my heart, I asked Shamhat all that I could about Uruk as we walked - about the city’s streets, the men and women that inhabited those streets, and about those that maintained order, for the last part was the strangest idea of all to me. Shamat’s face grew cool when she explained to me what a king was, doubly so when I asked what the present king of Uruk was like. There was no hatred in her voice when she answered that question, just cynicism. ‘Gilgamesh,’ she said to me, ‘While an acceptable king, lords his power over Uruk like a wild bull, setting down laws that favour him. He takes the men of Uruk and crushes them and the daughters of Uruk and uses them without the consent of either.’

“I frowned at this, for this flew in the face of all that Shamhat had told me about the duty of a king and the natural order that the gods had intended, down to man and woman their wedding night, and said to her, ‘No one opposes him, nor do the gods interfere with someone upsetting the divine order of the world?’ When Shamhat said no, my frown grew deeper and I said, ‘Then if the gods will not seat him, perhaps he will gain understanding if a man from the steppe walks up to him and challenges his right to rule.’ 

“Shamhat smiled at that and prompted me to go on, asking what I might say to the king’s face if given the opportunity. ‘Well,’ I said to her, ‘I will tell him the truth, call him out for being a disturbance in the divine order of things. I will say “I am the mightiest! I am the man who can make the world tremble! I am supreme!”’

“‘I do wonder how he might take such a challenge,’ Shamhat said to me in response. ‘After all, the gods have blessed him in spite of his violation of the divine order, and it is no secret in Uruk that the king has been plagued by dreams. It was those dreams that made him send me here rather than call for your hide to be brought before him.’ When I tilted my head, confused, Shamhat told me what she had heard.

“‘There were two,’ she said to me, aware that some time ago she had explained that dreams are messages from the gods, ‘In the first dream, he dreamed that a meteorite fell beside him, that he tried to lift it but it was too mighty to move, and all of Uruk assembled around it and kissed its feet like a baby. In that dream, he loved that stone and embraced it as a wife, then laid it down at the feet of his mother. In the second, an axe lay at the entrance of his marital chamber. Again, all of Uruk assembled and kissed the feet of the axe like a little baby. Again, he loved it and embraced it with a wife, and laid it down at the feet of his mother. After each dream, Gilgamesh went to his mother, the goddess Ninsun, begging her to interpret them. Each time in response she said to him, “This dream foretells of the arrival of a great friend and mighty hero, who you will take in your arms and embrace the way a man embraces and caresses his wife. He will be your perfect double, your second-self, and he will stand at your side through great dangers.”’

“‘And so to ensure that this dream came true, he sent you out into the wilderness,’ I concluded, not sure what to make of Uruk’s king. Shamhat nodded and concluded the rumours there, then found us a place to camp for the night.

“Time passed quickly as we continued our journey, and soon we began to run into other men and women on the road. Upon realizing that we were that much closer to civilization, Shamhat had me take one of her robes so that I would not be naked. To our mutual surprise, it fit, and we continued onwards. For many nights, we camped under the starry sky, until one night we found the hut of some shepherds. Shamhat asked to share lodgings with them for the night, but it was me that they marveled at, whispering that I looked like the king of Uruk and that I was indeed magnificent to behold. In their hospitality, the shepherds shared bread and beer with us - two things I had never seen. Shamhat nearly laughed aloud at my confusion, then whispered to me, ‘This is the food of civilization. Eat.’

“That evening passed quickly and I nearly ate and drank our hosts out of house and home, downing seven pitchers of beer and a great many loaves of bread. It was the first time I had experienced the thrill of intoxication, and it amused the shepherds to teach me a great number of lewd songs that they always sang to pass the evenings. In the morning, Shamhat thought it wise to introduce me to the habit of grooming and helped me to cut my hair, wash, and taught me to rub oil into my skin so that I would no longer smell of the far off wilderness. With that done, we continued on our way, ever closer to great-walled Uruk and it’s king.

“When we were only a day away from the city, I saw a man dart past us, clearly going in the same direction. Curious as to his rush, both Shamhat and I approached him and asked where he was heading that he should hurry so. In response, he said, ‘I am on my way to a wedding banquet! The hosts have piled the table high with food for the ceremony and for the guests, as the great king of Uruk is also in attendance. After all, it is the custom of Uruk that the king lies with the wife before the bridegroom, and it has been since the king’s birth-cord was cut.’

“I had nearly forgotten this detail about the city of Uruk, but at that moment the declaration I had made to Shamhat in the wilderness - that I was the mightiest, that I was the man who could make the world tremble, that I was supreme - returned to me, and so I looked to Shamhat for permission to hasten our pace towards Uruk. She gave it wordlessly, and so hand in hand we doubled our speed, reaching the city by nightfall.

“As we walked through the streets of Uruk - glorious in the colour of not only the buildings, the clothes of the people, loud not only in the music that echoed through the streets but in the bright chatter that came from it’s citizens - the populace gathered around us, shocked by my appearance. ‘How much like Gilgamesh he is,’ they whispered as I passed. ‘He has come here from the wilderness,’ others said in low voices, although I do not know how they knew this of me. ‘Truly this wild man can rival the mightiest of kings,’ they all concluded. When we asked for directions to the wedding, we were given them, and by sheer luck Shamhat and I arrived before Gilgamesh.

“We were greeted warmly at the house where the ceremony was held, but neither one of us partook in any of the festivities - I simply lingered near the entrance, waiting for the king, and Shamhat stood beside me if only for the sake of providing company. However, when Gilgamesh arrived, she stepped aside, knowing full well that there was to be a confrontation and that she would be injured if she did not give us space. She she distanced herself, I proceed to block the door to the house, refusing to let the king enter. I grinned when Gilgamesh gaped at me like a fish for this action, as never before had a man raised a hand to him in this way. In his rage, he seized me, his huge arms gripping my own and our foreheads clashing together like a pair of wild bulls. We struggled for dominance over each other, rolling in the streets of Uruk, throwing each other into the walls of nearby houses, destroying doorposts and careening through the streets for hours and hours, until we were on the steps of the palace of Uruk itself. Finally, Gilgamesh threw me to the ground hard enough to send me into a daze, giving him the opportunity to pin me. When he had done this, his anger left him, for suddenly he understood who I was and what I was to mean to him in time. 

“From my place upon the ground, I laughed at truly understanding the nature of this king. I said to to him now not that I was mightier than he, but that he was unique amongst men, put above other men in strength and courage by his mother, the goddess Ninsun, and destined for kingship over men by the god Enlil. At those words, he smiled and hauled me to my feet without so much as acknowledging my words, then embraced me as true friends do. 

“Hand in hand, we walked up the steps of the palace of Uruk, letting the city marvel at us. Never before had they seen the king treat any living thing as worthy of walking at his side and at that moment, they knew the gods had answered their prayers. All of Uruk rejoiced silently and offered up thanks.

“Together, we lived in the palace of Uruk, spending all our time at each other’s sides, as true friends do. We rose together, we prepared for the day together, we walked the palace gardens and the city streets side by side, and against each other we sparred so that we might encourage the other warriors of Uruk to try to equal us in skill. In the evenings, we sat at the head of the banquet and entertained those that Gilgamesh thought worthy to sit at his table for Shamhat had not lied when she said every day was a festival in Uruk. I found pleasure in this routine, and every day was a delight.

“But for my friend, routine was the enemy, and soon his heart grew restless and his legs ached to walk on unfamiliar grounds. It was with that same restless heart that he looked to me one day and said ‘Enkidu, my friend, I must ask you a question. Are you familiar with the great Cedar Forest?’ I said that I was. Pleased, my friend continued. ‘And you know of its fearsome guardian, the monster Humbaba, whose roar is a flood, whose mouth is fire and breath is death?’ Again, I said that I was, and my friend’s face brightened more. ‘Tell me, my friend, how great would our names become if we were to kill Humbaba and bring back his head to the city of Uruk in triumph? He is evil and--’ my friend continued, while I sighed at him, unsure of where this desire had come from. At that, Gilgamesh looked to me, concerned. ‘Why are you sighing? Why, dear friend, do your eyes fill with tears at the suggestion of such a great adventure?’

“There was nothing to be gained from hiding my feelings, and so I spoke honestly to my friend. ‘Gilgamesh, I knew that country well when I roamed the steppe, far away from the realms of men. The Cedar Forest is endless. Besides, dear friend, the forest is sacred to the god Enlil and he has declared it forbidden to the feet of men. For that purpose he set the monster Humbaba there and gave him great powers to ensure that this remains so. Who amongst the men or gods could hope to defeat such a beast, Gilgamesh, when Enlil has ensured that all who enter the forest will be struck down by fear?’

“At my words, my friend laughed at my fear, a bright, mocking laugh that echoed on the walls of the palace. ‘What you have just said is unworthy of you, my friend, and it grieves me to hear such words leave your lips! The pursuit of a great name with greater deeds attached to it that echo throughout the ages is the only form of immortality that men might hope to achieve! I ask where is your courage, my friend, your desire for adventure?’ He laughed again, as derisive as before. ‘If I die on this journey, will you not be ashamed when people say “Gilgamesh met a hero’s death, fighting the great monster Humbaba. But where was Enkidu in this fight? Why, he was safe at home!’ He paused at that, aware that I was not sharing his laughter. ‘My friend, you raised yourself in the wilderness and have killed lions and wolves when it suited you. Your sudden change in heart, when you are so battle tested and braver than any other man I know, distresses me. Have you grown so content here in Uruk that you care not for a return to the wilderness nor desire to do as all warriors and make a lasting name for yourself? Will I, the king, stand alone in my legend, without my dear friend beside me in glory and honour?’

“I did not dignify such obvious baiting with a response, nor did I attempt to dissuade my friend from this idea until several days later, when he unbolted the seven great gates of Uruk and made a public address, as he was wont to do from time to time. He gave a great speech to the gathered crowds, describing the fame that he would win on this journey to defeat Humbaba and how his glory would magnify that of the city. In the course of his speech, he begged the elders of Uruk for their blessing, as well as the blessing of the young warriors of the city, so that he might be ensured of his return. It was given freely and with enthusiasm, to my disgust and dismay. No man, woman or child understood the folly of this plan or that Gilgamesh would die in this attempt. I do not know if it was out of fear of the great king striking them down for daring to contradict him or a true belief that this plan was a good one, but I stood knowing that even if I spoke against him, I would suffer no rebukes or humiliation. Loudly, I said in front of all of Uruk, ‘Elders of Uruk, you are wise in your age and have experienced more of life than the restless hearted king. His plan will result in death and a crisis of succession, for he has no children. I have tried to dissuade him from this foolish desire, to remind him that the great monster Humbaba was appointed by the god Enlil to guard the forest, and yet he will not heed my words. Please, recognize this folly and do not allow it to proceed further.’

“To my relief, the elders of Uruk recognized the truth in my words and turned to Gilgamesh, repeating my argument and reminding him that he had other duties to the city that were far more important, even if they were more mundane. At that, Gilgamesh laughed and shrugged off the rebuke, turning to me and saying, ‘To speak these words in front of Uruk shows me that your courage has returned, dear friend, but your fear has not gone away! What am I to make of such duality? My mind was made up long ago, Enkidu. I will undertake this journey with or without you, although to do so alone grieves my heart.’

“I stood there in silence until I realized that by saying these things in public and having them turned against me, I risked losing the respect of the whole city. In my desire to avoid the wrath of Enlil, I had not thought ahead for my own sake, and so all I could do now wasgo along with my friend’s plan. With a smile on his face, he rose from his seat and took my hand in his, declaring that our next stop would be the forges of Uruk to the gathered crowd. My friend realized that I gripped his hand tighter than usual as we walked, but said nothing.

“In the forges, we commissioned great weapons that only the mightiest of all men could use - great axes that weight over two hundred pounds each, knives with gilded cross guards and all other things we could think of that might be needed in this quest. As the smiths worked, we went to the temple of the great goddess Ninsun, the wise and all-knowing, so that she too might give blessing on this journey.

“It was in silence that the goddess Ninsun listened to her son tell her of his quest to defeat Humbaba, and when he had finished her blessing did not come. She instead asked us to wait a few moments and went to the innermost room of her temple, although for what reason neither one of us could guess. When she returned, she addressed not Gilgamesh, but myself, a kind smile on her face. ‘Enkidu,’ she said to me, “I am aware that you truly have no mother, but you have proven yourself to be the brother that my son never had. With this,’ she draped a necklace around my head, elegant in design and accented with beads of lapis lazuli, ‘I adopt you as my son.’ As she fastened the clasp around the back of my neck, the goddess Ninsun whispered to me, ‘Guide Gilgamesh to his destination because he wills it, but bring him back safe because I will it.’

“I had no time to swear that oath aloud, but in my heart I promised to make it so. My friend, ignorant in the words that had transpired between myself and his mother, simply smiled, delighted in his mother’s words. After that, left the temple and went to the smiths to collect our weapons, then stood before the assembly of the elders of Uruk that had gathered outside of the gates. When we stood, ready to leave, they addressed Gilgamesh saying, ‘Complete your journey quickly, sire, and return to great-walled Uruk safely. Do not rely on your strength alone. Make use of your friend, Enkidu, who knows the way to the Cedar Forest and understands the ways of the wilderness. Remember the gods and pray to them - to Shamash, so that he may grant your heart’s desire and to your father, Lugalbanda, so that your battle may be quick and decisive.’ They then turned to me and said, ‘Enkidu, the king’s safety is in your hands. Guide him through the wilderness you know so well, teach him to dig wells when you rest and to forage for food. Stay at his side when the moment of battle comes and remain there until it is won.’

“With their words said, we left behind great-walled Uruk, journeying three days and three nights until deciding to rest - a six week journey for ordinary men. We traveled in this fashion, resting on the third night, for five cycles. Each night we rested, it fell Gilgamesh to pray for dreams and for I to do the rites that allow their passage. Each night, dreams came, causing my friend to wake in a cold sweat. At that, he would shake me until I sat up and stared sleepily at him, then tell me his dreams. He was certain that every single one meant failure, but in truth, each was a promise of victory. I reassured him of that fact every time, but that the dreams continued was unsettling for us both.

“At the end of the fifth cycle, we stood at the edge of the forest, axes in our hands and anticipation in our eyes, but both of our tongues were still. No words could ease the fear that rested in our hearts. Grasping each other’s hands and holding them tightly, we strode into the forest together.

“I feel no shame in admitting that at so much as seeing the great many paths beaten down by Humbaba over the years, terror struck me and I turned to my dear friend, saying to him, ‘I cannot go further down this path with you, for every inch of me is paralyzed with fear. Continue without me and win the glory you seek. I shall go ahead of you, back to Uruk, and the city can broadcast my cowardice to all.’

“My friend turned to me and redoubled the hold he had on my hand, squeezing it in both comfort and confidence. ‘Enkidu, I cannot kill Humbaba alone. I always intended for you to be alongside me for this reason. Truly, the proverbs do not lie when they say that two boats lashed together cannot sink, nor a three ply rope be easily broken. Together, this monster will fall with ease.’

“In response, I let go of his hand and sighed heavily. ‘Gilgamesh, you have not lived in the wilderness as I have, so you cannot understand my terror. Once, before we met, I caught a glimpse of Humbaba and at it my blood ran cold. Humbaba’s teeth are knives, his face the blood smeared face of a lion and around him is the aura of death itself. To look upon him is to be paralyzed with fear. You have chosen an impossible task for us both, allowing your restless heart to goad us both into a battle we are certain to lose, regardless of wise proverbs and the wiser men who said them.’

“‘Courage, dearest friend and brother,’ Gilgamesh said to me, ‘We have traveled too long and too far to give up now and return to Uruk a disappointment to all. Enkidu, forget about death and focus only on the joy of battle - your instinct will do the rest. If you can do that, we will triumph over Humbaba and make a lasting name for ourselves.’

“At my friend’s words, I thought back to my time on the steppe and the delight I shared hunting alongside the great lions and wolves and at the shared satisfaction we all had at the kill. My friend was right to say that this was no different and suddenly fear left my heart, replaced with indescribable excitement for what was to come.

“Side-by-side we walked through the forest until we found the great monster outside of his den, taller than a house and surrounded by the auras of fear and death. Humbaba then turned to us and my friend froze with fear, as he had never anticipated Humbaba to be so fearsome in sight. Even when I addressed Gilgamesh, reminding him of the old proverbs he had quoted to me earlier, he could not tear his gaze away from the forest’s fearsome guardian. It wasn’t until I began to walk forward towards Humbaba that he followed me, and even then it was with reluctance in his step.

“Our approach betrayed our intentions, and so Humbaba finally spoke to us, saying ‘I know you, Gilgamesh, king of Uruk, and I know that you run a fool’s errand. Flee here and be known as a coward, unless you wish for me to rend you from limb to limb, crushing you and leaving your mangled corpse on the ground! And you, Enkidu, you son of a fish, I know you as well! I recall when you roamed the wilderness. Upon seeing you, I considered what sort of a meal you would make, but decided that you were not even worth the effort. I would regret that decision since you have lead Gilgamesh here, but because you stand before me like a pair of scared girls, I am instead grateful that those faces will be the last you make on earth!’

“As Humbaba described our deaths before they happened, Gilgamesh turned to me, his voice faint, saying, ‘‘How can I fight a monster whose face is a thousand nightmares? Enkidu, I cannot bear to go on, let us heed his words and return to Uruk as failures.’

“At this, I laughed and smiled at my friend, gripping my weapons even tighter. ‘What you have just said is unworthy of you, my friend, and it grieves me to hear such words leave your lips. You have set a path before us and insisted we walk down it - will you fail to carry through your own designs? Come. As you have said, between us, Humbaba has no chance.’

“My friend’s confidence returned at my words and without any further exchange, we both rushed forward towards Humbaba, weapons drawn. As we charged, Humbaba let out a great cry and stamped the ground, causing black clouds to gather and fissures in the earth to open beneath us, so that we might be swallowed whole before we attacked. Such attempts proved futile though, for as we grappled with the great beast, a great many winds began to gather in the Cedar Forest, assaulting Humbaba from all directions. I know not what god decided to aid us so, but we were given aid none the less, and soon Humbaba lay paralyzed and at our mercy. Realizing this, Humbaba turned to Gilgamesh and said ‘Great king, grant me mercy and my life. I have only attacked because it is my nature as the guardian of the forest. If you do me this kindness, the forest will be yours for plundering, only let me live.’

“There was, of course, no truth in Humbaba’s words - only a desperate attempt to cling to life. As my friend’s hand hesitated with the knife, I called out, “Gilgamesh, he is a liar! Slit his throat and be done with it!’

“Humbaba, aware that I was now the enemy more so than my friend looked to me with desperate eyes. ‘Enkidu, if there is any man who understands the way of the wilderness, it is you. My nature is to protect this place, sacred to Enlil. I could not do any differently!’ His voice then grew out of its desperation and was replaced with anger. ‘Kill me and you call down the judgement of the gods. I spared your life by not ending you both as you entered the Cedar Forest - show me the same courtesy and you will avoid this fate.’

“‘Do not hesitate another second, my friend!’ I shouted, and at that Gilgamesh’s hand steadied.

“‘Hear me then!’ Humbaba roared. ‘I curse you both! Enkidu, may you die in agony, and Gilgamesh may you be inconsolable at this loss for all time. I place this curse upon you in the sacred forest of Enlil, for it is he who will enact this judgement when he sees fit!’

“The hand that had been steadied by my words now dropped its axe entirely, horrified. True, Humbaba’s words were a great and mighty curse, but what promise did we have that we could not be cursed anyway for the transgression my friend had embarked upon? ‘Now!’ I cried out, rushing to my friend’s side with my own axe drawn, ‘If you will not do it, I will!’

“Before I could reach Gilgamesh, he picked his axe up again and raised it over his head, piercing Humbaba’s neck with the blade. The great monster roared in agony as his blood gushed all over, drenching my friend as he severed Humbaba’s head from the rest of his body. Humbaba’s final roar shook the entire land, and then he fell over, dead at Gilgamesh’s hands and my words.

“With our goal accomplished, we designed for ourselves a great raft of cedars so that we might bring both timber and Humbaba’s head back to Uruk by way of the rivers, rather than traveling on foot. As we worked, we planned ways to make amends to Enlil and counteract Humbaba’s curse, settling for building a great cedar door for the god. Gilgamesh spoke of how he might build it as I lashed the trunks of the cedars together, and as we dragged the raft towards the river I spoke of where we might display Humbaba’s head for all of Uruk to marvel at.

“Our return to Uruk was much faster thanks to the rivers that bless our land, and soon enough we were walking through the city’s gates in triumph, proudly carrying Humbaba’s head atop our cedar raft. The people of Uruk marveled at not only our return, but by how disheveled and exhausted we looked. True enough, we had not bathed in some time, and we were both covered in blood, sand and river water. We saw to this while servants rushed around the great palace of Uruk, preparing a victory feast that was to last six days and seven nights and shared with the entire city, for our victor was also theirs.

“When the six days and seven nights of feasting were over, the city returned to normal and so did daily life around the palace. Again we returned to routine, still rising together, preparing for the day together, walking the palace gardens and city streets side by side, sparring so that we might encourage the other warriors of Uruk to try and equal us in skill and sitting at the head of the banquet table in the evening, entertaining those that Gilgamesh found worthy to sit there. It seemed that the death of Humbaba had quelled my friend’s thirst for glory and he did not begrudge routine.

“However, his fame had other side effects. One day, when we were both cleaning ourselves of sweat and dirt from another sparring session, the great goddess Ishtar caught sight of Gilgamesh from high above and her loins stirred, finally matching the story of our defeat of Humbaba to the face of one of the two men responsible for the monster’s death. She descended from on high and looked to Gilgamesh and proposed that they wed as soon as they could. She promised that their union would not only increase my friend’s magnificence, but his fortune as well - that his goats would bear triplets, his ewes twin, donkeys run faster than any mule, chariot horses surpass any others in a race. In response, Gilgamesh recoiled at the thought, saying, ‘Why would I want to be the lover of a broken oven that fails in the cold, of a palace that falls on the staunchest defenses, a water skin full of holes, a shoe that mangles the wearer’s foot? Tell me, Ishtar, which of your husbands did you love forever? You sent Tammuz to your sister in the underworld, broke the wings of the bright speckled roller bird, left the great lion to die, cursed the mighty stallion to drink muddy water, turned the shepherd into a wolf so that even now his own flock flees from him and turned Ishullanu into a frog! If I said yes to you, my fate would be no different!’

“We both watched the goddess explode into a terrifying rage, ascending to the heavens and promising destruction. After a long silence between us, I looked to my friend with a stern face, saying, ‘You should not have rebuked Ishtar as you did.’

“Gilgamesh looked to me and frowned, replying, ‘I would be doomed if I said yes as well, Enkidu. But because we know she will attack us for this insult, we will be ready and capable of defending ourselves.’

“My friend’s reasoning made sense and we readied ourselves for Ishtar’s retaliation, but even we could not anticipate that Anu would hand her the nose rope of the Bull of Heaven.

“I will not elaborate on the bull’s powers, Ereshikgal, for you know them better than any other man or woman, but I will be honest in describing his death. When Ishtar lead the bull down in to Uruk, great crevices opened and many warriors fell into the earth. I too fell in, up to my waist. It was then that Gilgamesh arrived on the scene, armed even more heavily than when we had gone to seek Humbaba, and it was he that pulled me out of that great crack in the earth. We exchanged no words on how we might defeat the bull, we simply hunted it through the city, understanding that I would attack from behind and Gilgamesh in front. I was able to grab ahold of the bull’s tail, causing it to startle and thrash about wildly. At that moment, Gilgamesh appeared and struck the bull on the head, between his horns, butchering it and then opening it’s side, so that we might offer the bull’s heart to Shamash.

“In the distance, we heard Ishtar bemoan the bull’s death, crying out for all of Uruk to hear, ‘Not only has Gilgamesh, the king of Uruk, slandered the very god who is his city’s patron, but he has killed his own punishment, the Bull of Heaven!’’

“At this, fury rose in my heart. Had the Bull of Heaven not been stopped, all of Uruk would have had seven years of famine, and yet she would claim herself the city’s patron while blithely punishing it? I ripped off the bull’s thigh and flung it across the city in my anger, pleased when it smeared Ishtar’s face in blood. ‘If I could catch you!’ I cried out, ‘I would rip out the entrails of this bull and drape you in its innards!’

“Ishtar disappeared then, instructing her priestesses to venerate the bull’s thigh while my friend and I took the spoils of war, removing the bull’s great horns of lapis lazuli and offering them to a statue of his father, Lugalbanda. After the offering had been made, we both washed ourselves before parading around Uruk in triumph, smiling as the crowds shouted out praise and giving thanks for having two such mighty protectors of the city. Even my friend joined in, grinning and laughing as he too called out, ‘Tell me: who is the handsomest of men, and tell me: who is the bravest of heroes? Have you no answer? Then I tell you! Gilgamesh is the handsomest of men and Enkidu, Enkidu is the bravest of heroes! We are the victors who flung the thigh of the Bull of Heaven into the face of Ishtar herself, Ishtar who now wails that she has no one to avenge her!’

“Our triumph continued long into the night, for the city again feasted alongside its king, sharing in his joy and in my glory. However, our victory was short lived, as that night I dreamed a great and terrifying dream. In my terror, I awoke and called for my friend, who insisted I tell him all that had transpired. I did so reluctantly, revealing that the gods had held a great council to decide our fate, for the death of the Bull of Heaven had scared the gods so. Enlil was permitted to put into motion the curse of Humbaba, and at that moment my death was all but assured.

“I do not wish to discuss what happened next, great queen, for my friend’s sad attempts at reassurance are painful for me to reflect on and if I was to voice them, I would surely weep before you. Only know that I dreamed a second dream where I was dragged into the underworld before you, and you looked at me with great anger in your eyes. It was after that dream happened that I grew deathly ill, lingering in the realm of men for twelve days in great agony, bound to my bed.

“During those twelve days, great curses left my mouth. To the trappers that found me a nuisance and lead me towards humanity, I prayed that Shamash would ruin their livelihood - that no animals were to enter their traps, or if they did, they might escape and the trappers starve. I then cursed Shamat, the priestess, so that she would never have a home or family, that men beat her as a housewife beats a rug, that she never acquire great riches, that her dwellings be broken apartments with leaking roofs and rotting floors, drunkards vomit on her, the tavern wall be her place of business, that her dress be tattered robes all the days of her life, that wives may sue her and the youth mock her in the streets, all for teaching me about the realms of men and bringing me to Uruk. 

“I opened my mouth to let out a third curse, but was stopped by the great god Shamash, who chided my bitterness and offered paltry comfort, reminding me that yes, Shamhat was responsible for teaching me about the realms of men, she had also lead me to Gilgamesh and encouraged our friendship. For that and that alone, anger and bitterness was inappropriate, as all rites and honours would be mine in death. At the time, it was enough to calm my raging heart. At the encouragement of Shamash, I rescinded the two curses and replaced them with blessings - the trappers would continue and flourish in their trade, and that Shamhat would have great wealth and generous lovers, finding happiness there.

“The idea that those words sapped the very last of my strength would not surprise me, for I barely spoke in the few days that remained. Every day servants would come in and out of my rooms, bearing food and beer for the sake of normalcy, to make it seem as if this was only a temporary sickness, but we all knew otherwise. Gilgamesh always lingered at the outside of my chambers, asking after my health only when he thought I was asleep. Whenever he spoke, fear coloured his voice, and whenever I heard him I wanted to cry out, to beg him to come into my room and stay at my side, but even that was too great an expense of energy for me.

“Days passed, and finally I had enough energy to sit up and cry out, ‘Have you abandoned me now, dear friend? Long ago you said that you would always be at my side when I was afraid, but now, now when fear has seized me, I cannot see you. Weren’t we to remain inseparable forever, you and I?’

“My twelve days of sickness ended there, the last of my life force spent calling out to my dear friend. After those words left my lips, I collapsed upon my bed and closed my eyes. When they opened again, I was here before you, Ereshkigal, and you had me tell you how I had a hand in the death of both Humbaba and the Bull of Heaven.”

Ereshkigal makes no noise when Enkidu finishes, but her eyes still linger on the shade before her. Her body betrays none of her thoughts and Enkidu finds dread growing in the pit of his stomach. It is common knowledge that the underworld does not reward or punish its residents, but by virtue of slaying Gugalanna, Enkidu fears that an exception might be made for him. Only Belet-seri dares to break the silence, looking up from her great stone tablet. “My queen, as amusing as this interlude has been, you have duties you must attend to.”

“I am aware, Belet-seri,” Ereshkigal says. “Enkidu. You have told your story, and it has indeed provided a moment’s entertainment. That is more than I can say for many of the other shades that pass into my house. But now that moment is over, and I give you my permission to take leave of this room and wander where you may, as all the dead must.”

Ereshkigal does not wait for Enkidu to see himself out of her throne room - she simply has Belet-seri call in the next spirit and again asks, “Who has brought this new resident here?” The voice that responds is no one that Enkidu knows, and so he finally shows himself into the greater part of Irkalla. 

The darkness he saw in his dream - the squatting priests and acolytes, the great kings and proud queens of Sumeria, the ecstatic and the dull, the great primeval rulers - are all there before him now, covered in thick layers of dust. Enkidu takes his seat not beside any of the other shades, but beside the piles of crowns that have long been cast off by their owners and waits, for only great kings can contribute to the collection.

**Author's Note:**

> Many lines are taken from the Stephen Mitchell transliteration of the Epic - a problematic translation because Mitchell focuses more on the story and cuts corners on transcribing the text into English exactly, but not a poor retelling for the sake of just telling the story.
> 
> My thanks go to Sarah for her help.


End file.
